


In Friendship

by Eva



Category: Watership Down - Adams
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva/pseuds/Eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle, and a rabbit in the moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norah/gifts).



> I wanted very much to include the rabbit in the moon, and still make it light-hearted, but since Inle means both "moon" and "darkness," I decided to go instead with showing the lighter side of that... which meant less light-heartedness. I'm sorry. Happy Holidays, and I really hope you enjoy this story even if it's not quite what you asked for!

"You may be just a rabbit, but everyone will remember you; there is your image in light, for all men and for all times."  
(according to the Wiki,) from an Aztec legend

 

You know, of course, of that time in timelessness, when El-ahrairah and his trusted friend, Rabscuttle, traveled through blighted dreams to the dark warren of Inle. You know the bargain he struck, though he did not know he struck it; you know that he won, and saved his people.

This story, though not so bleak, comes from that bleakness. For even as he has his own Owsla, the Black Rabbit of Inle had a mate. And in the months when El-ahrairah wandered like a beggar through the wilderness, depending on Rabscuttle to be his whiskers, tails, and ears, he met that mate, and knew again the wisdom of Lord Frith, whose goodness shines through all things, even the dark.

Winter had passed while they lived without living in the dark warren, but not entirely. Its cold hands still clutched the land and its breath fell sharp from the sky. El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle shivered as they sought shelter but, in the great wild plain they had wandered into, there was none to be had. It was snow that covered the earth, snow that fell from the sky, but it felt like teeth.

Rabscuttle dug a burrow into a great drift of snow and they huddled together, the cold leaching the warmth from their bones. But they drew some measure of comfort in being out of the wind's reach, though they heard it shrieking above them, calling their names. The storm lasted three days, and at its end the two rabbits jumped to their feet at the sound of a great, racing thunder, growing louder and faster as they stood, wide-eyed, fear locking their legs.

'Rabscuttle,' El-ahrairah said then, 'What do you hear?'

The fear had left his master's voice. Rabscuttle listened harder, then said in wonder, 'Why, that's the sound of our own pulses!'

They dug out of the snow then, driving up and out, into warm light. And their spirits were light, though they were weak with hunger, though they still shivered in cold. Perhaps you've never known a cold so great, or a storm so strong, but I assure you that when they broke through and stood on the snow above their icy scrape, the land all about them was white, and the white was blinding. Lord Frith stood high and distant in the sky, so bright that they had to close their eyes; so bright it was the same as darkness in that their eyes could not see... but different in that their hearts were warmed at last.

But Rabscuttle jumped and pushed El-ahrairah back down into the hole, back into the snow, because a shadow fell over them then, and a great bird swooped to take them with its talons.

'We must stay here until night,' El-ahrairah said, striving to keep despair from his voice, for his soul cried to travel in the light. After so long in darkness, you can imagine why.

So Rabscuttle dug away at the snow and created an overhang for them, and they dozed lightly, letting sunlight work its good will on their hearts. When at last it grew dim, and great Frith hung low in the sky, Rabscuttle peered across the glittering snow again and saw the face of the moon, and the comforting flowering of the stars.

They traveled then, on snow so hard it was like rock, and left no trail and no scent. They found neither food nor shelter, and no end of the great plain of ice. And then Rabscuttle looked up and cried out, 'Master, there! A rabbit!'

And there was a rabbit, standing tall against the low, brooding face of the moon, its shadow reaching out to them. El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle rushed forward, but it was gone before they could meet it, or even know the other rabbit's scent. Still, where it had stood, there was a hole. They went inside, slow and careful, and found a burrow like the one they had dug in the storm; a burrow that still held the living warmth and the strange smell of the rabbit they had seen. And, more importantly, inside this burrow there was lettuce: a bit, weak and old, but lettuce nonetheless, and it was like a feast to El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle, and a balm. Here they had a friend, although they could not see him.

So it went, for another two days and nights, until their stomachs and hearts were full in turn. And when survival is a given, of course, a rabbit's natural curiosity becomes like a hunger to be sated.

So, dozing in the sunlight, El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle murmured together, and when night took them traveling again, they kept a keen eye out for the shadow of their mysterious benefactor. When the moon drew low once again, full and round, the shadow of a rabbit fell across the snow. El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle stopped, and listened.

When there was nothing but silence, El-ahrairah spoke. 'My friend, let me thank you for your kindness; for your selflessness in this strange place. But, please, do not be a stranger to us any longer. Let us know whose name to praise for such generosity.'

The shadow flickered, as if the rabbit might move, or run.

'What makes you think this is generosity, my friend?' The voice was that of a doe, soft and somehow more chilling than the night air. 'I may be leading you in circles, keeping you in an endless loop. This could be your own scrape, improved, a better trap.'

'I refuse to believe that rabbit may be elil,' said El-ahrairah, and even as he said so, his belief became implacable in his heart. 'Not even the Black Rabbit of Inle--'

The doe started, hard. For a moment it seemed that she would take flight, but again she settled. 'I had heard you stood before him. I had heard he took from you your ears, your whiskers.'

'And my tail,' El-ahrairah said. 'I mention it only for candor's sake.'

She turned to face them then, and a red light shone in her eyes; the same as that of the Black Rabbit's Owsla, grim and cold. But no frost touched their hearts, because of El-ahrairah's words.

'Rabbit may be elil, oh Prince,' she said, 'or do you not remember Hufsa?'

'I remember that miserable creature,' El-ahrairah said, and let his voice soften. 'But such as he are miserable because they are misled. No rabbit that brings such warmth to living souls could be in thrall to elil.'

'Why should I want you to go?' she asked. Her eyes shone brighter. 'I am alone here. I go as I am called, to the black hills, to the great warren there. I go and yet I have no kittens. I know none who do. I watch you, and I am alone.'

And El-ahrairah understood, at last, of what she warned them. If they persisted in grace, this lonely doe might forget herself and her kindness, and keep them here.

'One night more and you will find the end of this plain,' she said. 'Do you risk yourselves for words? Rest, and know comfort in the morning. There is nothing for you in the night.'

Rabscuttle stirred beside him, and El-ahrairah spoke. 'A favor given is one received. We would not be unkind to you.'

'Your kindness is most unkind,' she said, and turned away.

'Even darkness is a comfort, in a warm burrow, among friends. Say that we are friends, and let us wish you well.'

The wind picked up sharply, and the curious scent of sorrow filled the air. 'I will watch for you, oh Prince, when you are called here again. I will watch, and I will know you all.'

'We will walk in the moonlight then, you and I,' El-ahrairah said. 'In friendship.'

With the sudden gasp of the wind, she was gone, as if she had never been. But the burrow was warm, still, and smelled of green grass and healthy rabbits.

And while rabbits to this day feed and play in the warm light of Lord Frith, without a care, so do they also feed and play in the light of the moon, when it shines down on them, for friendship: that which makes death and loss and sorrow bearable, that which of true expression can only increase one's joy.


End file.
